


cross your fingers, here we go

by liquidsky



Category: Love Simon (2018), Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda - Becky Albertalli
Genre: M/M, Tiny Slices of Life, movie-verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 01:23:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14153640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liquidsky/pseuds/liquidsky
Summary: “You wanna know how I knew that?” Bram pokes Simon with his foot, and his smile is distracting enough that Simon nearly forgets to ask,“How did you know that?”“You’ve been staring at me the whole time,”//A small collection of moments between Simon and Bram, featuring their friends.





	cross your fingers, here we go

He’s thought about this about a million times, probably. Except this is not a fantasy, the kind had while watching the broad-shouldered boy who does gardening for the lady next-door bend over to tie his boots, or the type had when it’s 2 am and one has watched a few too many Brendan Urie interviews on YouTube, or the kind of thing that happens after  opening a porn tab on incognito mode first thing in the morning.

 

This is different – Bram is stretched comfortably across Simon’s bed, his legs crossed at the ankles, his shirt riding up and revealing a patch of dark skin that may or may not make Simon’s breath catch. Simon’s staring, and trying not to, his eyes constantly slipping away from the Algebra textbook he’s holding in his lap. Bram’s noticed, he’s pretty sure, but he hasn’t said anything yet, though the corners of his lips keep lifting almost unconsciously every few minutes.

 

“Si,” Bram finally starts, his socked foot purposefully nudging Simon’s thighs, “Have you done 3B yet?”

 

Simon hasn’t. He looks down at his textbook and is not surprised to find he hasn’t even gotten around to 1A. He gives Bram a look.

 

“Yes,” Simon says, and Bram narrows his eyes at him.

 

“Have you really?” he asks again, the warm, familiar teasing lilt in his voice making Simon laugh.

 

“Ok, I haven’t yet, but I’m getting there.” Simon explains, and places his palms on his textbook.

 

“You wanna know how I knew that?” Bram pokes Simon with his foot, and his smile is distracting enough that Simon nearly forgets to ask,

 

“How did you know that?”

 

“You’ve been staring at me the whole time,” Bram says. “What’s up, Si?”

 

Nothing’s really up, to be honest, other than Simon’s not really new and frankly not that surprising thirst attack at his own boyfriend. It’s a whole thing, and the way Bram furrows his brows and sits up in bed is far better than any soft relationship fantasies Simon had previously entertained.

 

“Anything I can help with?” Bram asks, moving closer to Simon on the bed. Simon smiles at him and squeezes his leg when he gets close enough.

 

“Well,” Simon starts, “you _are_ being very distracting–”

 

“–Distracting? How am I distrac–”

 

“–what with the legs and the arms and the being in my bed and all.”

 

Bram laughs at him, scratches the back of his neck in embarrassment, and Simon holds his hand when he drops it back on the mattress, the bridge of his nose turning a faint red shade. Simon shrugs, and Bram rolls his eyes, muttering something before stating loudly, “You’re a horny teenager, Spier.”

 

Simon’s grin widens and he squeezes Bram’s hand with his, “It would appear so, Greenfeld."

 

 

//

 

Simon’s pretty sure Nick and Abby are having a serious discussion on the nutritional value of the cafeteria’s mashed potatoes, Leah chiming in to say that it’s probably not even potato at all while Garrett pokes at his own plate with a contemplating look on his face. Simon’s not paying them much attention, though, because Bram’s holding his hand under the table, and his leg is pressed tightly against Simon’s, his right foot nudging Simon’s whenever anyone says something he finds particularly funny. Simon’s easily distracted in the face of Bram, and Bram is probably too distracting for his own good as far as Simon’s concerned. It would be a good combination if Simon could just turn his face and kiss him, touch his waist and his back and his shoulders like he wants to, in a way that would most likely get them thrown out of the cafeteria.

 

As it is, Simon settles for trying to caress Bram’s leg with his own, and squeezing his hand and his fingers while he reflects, very dreamy-eyed, about the long list of things he wished he could to Bram instead of just this.

 

Not that they have done anything other than very PG-13 kissing yet, and God, even that is in an absolute league of its own compared to all of Simon’s previous experiences, but he’s just been. Thinking. Lately, about doing more, and his brain has been taking many definitive turns straight to the gutter during their frequent study dates in these past two months. It’s the luxury of having a boyfriend, Simon often thinks, whenever he’s having these thoughts and looks at Bram only to find that Bram is already looking at him. It happens a lot, too, Bram’s eyes dark and focused in a way that turns Simon’s palms clammy and makes his heart nearly beat out of his chest. It’s been a waiting game, somewhat, waiting to have alone time and space, waiting to make sure their creative fantasies are not unrequited, waiting for the perfect moment. Bram snorts out a bright laugh and his leg shakes against Simon’s. He looks at Bram through the corner of his eyes and decides whatever wait is very much worth it.  

 

//

 

The perfect moment, as it turns out, it’s not really perfect at all – it’s Simon mentioning that he needs to buy some new jeans at a made-up store that takes forever to get to and Bram asking Simon to drive into the parking lot of a weirdly remote Michaels with the excuse of “getting aesthetic pictures of the sunset in a parking lot” and both of them knowing that everything’s one hundred percent bullshit and just getting out of the car to get into the backseat and arduously try to position themselves in a way that is favorable to making out and will also not get them any unwanted concussions. Bram lays down across the seats and Simon lays down directly on top of Bram, their legs tangling together. It’s a tight fit, but the reasoning behind this whole scheme was their mutual and somewhat desperate need for _closeness_ , which means that neither of them is about to complain about their chests and thighs brushing against each other’s whenever they so much as breathe.

 

Their kissing is both the same and incredibly different from how it usually is – Bram still bites Simon’s lips, and Simon still gasps softly when Bram kisses his way down Simon’s jawline and neck, but their hands have free reign now to travel under t-shirts, to explore and squeeze and roam in a way that is just not possible when there’s the constant threat of parents walking in. Now, though, alone in the quiet of Simon’s car, Bram’s hands circle around Simon’s waist, dragging up to his shoulders and down to his lower back, pausing there, and Simon looks up from where he’s sucking a small hickey onto the skin of Bram’s neck, meets Bram’s eyes.

 

“You can,” Simon says, softly, “If you want to, I mean.”

 

So Bram does, lowers his hands to rest carefully on top of Simon’s ass, then feels him up purposefully. Simon swears – a quiet noise that’s mostly muffled by the skin of Bram’s shoulders –, pushes his hips down against Bram’s. The friction sets his insides on fire, the burn spreading through his body fast and unstoppable, and Bram groans loudly and wraps his legs around Simon’s in return.

 

It’s everything Simon hoped it would be – the warmth of their bodies moving together, the way Bram sighs and groans as Simon grinds his hips down harder and faster, how his hands grip Simon’s ass and how he throws his head back so Simon can keep biting around his neck. Simon’s hands are holding Bram’s legs hard enough to bruise, probably, and the windows are starting to fog. He’s pretty sure he’s about to come, and it feels just about good enough to make him shake, make him push down against Bram heartily, looking up to press their lips together and muffle Bram’s groans as they get louder and louder.

 

Absolutely perfect, is how Simon would describe it.

 

Or how he would have, if it weren’t for the rapping on the window that makes them fly apart fast enough that Simon hits his head on the car ceiling.

 

Outside, looking both scandalized and reproachful, stands an old lady, her hair gray and long, covering the shoulders of her “Jesus Loves You” sweater. Simon drops his head back on Bram’s shoulders.

 

“If that’s not a mood killer,” Bram jokes, and Simon doesn't try to hold the giggles that escape. 

 

//

 

“GARRETT’S FREE ON YOUR LEFT, NICK!” Abby is screaming, and Leah raises her eyebrows at Simon, both of them marveling at Abby’s renewed interest in soccer. “Make the goddamn pass, Jesus fuck," she mutters, before slurping noisily on her iced coffee. Leah pats her leg and offers her some fries. Abby grabs three, shoving them into her mouth.

 

“Soccer is goddamn stressful sometimes," she says, and Leah snorts. Simon’s eyes are trained on Bram, and the three of them lean forward on their seats when Bram strips the ball off an opposing defenseman on the 6-yard box and shoots it forward. Simon holds his breath as the goalie jumps to defend it, but the ball goes through. Everyone stands up to scream, loud and raucous, and Bram runs to the edge of the field, his hands flying up in the shape of a heart. Warmth spreads through Simon’s body, an unself-conscious smile spreading his lips even as Abby and Leah tease him with loud “ _awwwws”_ and a few of the people turn to look at him and whisper. He raises his hands to his mouth, and his scream seems to echo above all other noise when his eyes meet Bram’s.

 

“That’s romantic,” Abby points out, the smile clear in her voice.

 

Next to her, Leah giggles. “Oh, to be young and in love."

 

Simon rolls his eyes, pushing Abby jokingly, but he can’t help to keep smiling, his face warm, his heart beating fast and excited. He turns his eyes back to the field, and cheers along with everyone else as Bram chases the ball.

 

Oh, to be young and in love.

 

//

 

“Shit, do you think he’s gonna ask her?” Bram says, and he’s leaning all the way into Simon’s space, looking over to where Garrett stands against one of the beams. Garrett’s holding one gigantic pink poster with the word "PROM” on it, and Leah is standing next to him, tape and scissors in her hands.

 

“No way," Nick says, and Abby punches him on the shoulder. Simon snorts.

 

“I think he will,” Abby comments, and she gives Nick a look when he opens his mouth to disagree. “She wants him to, I think."

 

“Dude, she definitely does,” is what Bram says, and Simon looks over at Leah and Garrett, notices the way she’s got a shy smile on her face, and how Garrett keeps fidgeting every two seconds.

 

“He’s gonna punk out.” Simon states. Bram gives him a judgemental look, his nose wrinkling.

 

“No, he fucking won’t," Abby says. And Bram offers his fist. She bumps it, grinning at him.

 

“He looks fucking panicked, look at his legs, he’s gonna dig a hole in the floor if he keeps doing that” is what Simon points out.  Nick mutters “see, _thank you_ ” and Abby punches him again.

 

Across the room from them, Garrett stops fidgeting, and the four of them watch as Garrett squares his shoulders and shakes his head before a gigantic smile takes over his face. They watch as he says something, though none of them can hear what, exactly, and their eyes widen as Leah smiles, bright, and leans forward to hug Garrett. Abby and Bram smirk as Leah bounds happily over to their table, and Simon’s nonchalant act is transparent as shit, but apparently not enough that Leah sees through it.

 

“Guys,” Leah starts, “Garrett just told me he can cover my shift on the crafts fair for our arts class."

 

Nick cackles, loud enough that people a few tables over turn to look at them, and Abby punches him again. Simon smirks, and Bram kicks his shins under the table.

 

“That’s great, Leah," Abby says.

 

//

 

“Hey, what do you think about Kate Leonard?” Leah asks on a Thursday evening, when they’re sitting on Simon’s bed working on their homework.

 

“She seems nice, I guess”

 

“Yeah, but like. Do you think we might have stuff in common?” Leah pushes, nudging his foot with hers. Simons looks away from his textbook and at her.

 

“I don’t really know her, to be honest. But maybe, she does theatre too.” he says, and Leah gives him a look.

 

“I don’t do theatre, Si,”

 

“Yeah, I know. But you said we, and that’s the only class Kate and I have together," he explained, shrugging softly. She gives his foot a little kick.

 

“I meant _we_ as in me and Kate,” she says, and she’s drawing something on her textbook as she explains. Simon sits up a little bit, eyeing Leah curiously.

 

“I mean, I think so. What classes do you have together?”

 

“English and arts,” Leah pauses. “I was thinking about asking her to be my partner for our last assignment.”

 

Simons nods, and Leah nods, too, seeming satisfied with their talk. She steals his eraser to fix something on her homework, and they work for a few more hours.

 

//

 

“Holy _fuck_ ,” Simon starts, laughing as he stares at the ridiculous amount of colorful lights placed around the entrance. “You guys went all out.”

 

“Looks fucking awesome, doesn’t it,” Garrett says, and Bram offers his fist for Garrett to bump before patting his back proudly.

 

Simon and Bram got there a few minutes after Garrett, who was wearing all black, a pink rose stuffed in the pocket of his suit jacket. His hair is gelled back, too, and Simon squeezes Bram’s hand instead of laughing like he wants to. Bram squeezes back, but he also tells Garrett that he looks great, so Simon smiles and shakes his head to himself.

 

Weeks before prom, Bram and Simon had agreed to wear matching navy blue suits, so here they are, and Simon doesn’t even blush when Abby comes hopping in their direction,

 

“Are those blue suits?” She asks, squinting at them and giving them her most facetious grin, “You guys are fucking cute, d’you know."

 

She wraps Simon in a hug, then, and he hugs her back tightly, thankful for her friendship and her teasing. Leah arrives with Nick a few moments after, both of them walking fast and laughing between themselves. Abby gives Nick a kiss on the cheek, and does the same for Leah right after. Leah blushes and laughs, and Nick leans in to give Abby a kiss on the mouth.

 

“Have you brought the drinks?” Garrett asks, and Nick gives him a blinding smile.

 

“Fuck yes, I have,” he announces, and both Abby and Bram sort of whoop, while Leah rolls her eyes and shakes her head. Simon grins at her, and walks forward so he can link their arms together.

 

“Please don’t get plastered,” she tells him, and Bram catches up to them, latches on to Simon’s other side.

 

“No one’s getting plastered,” Bram says, and Simon nods. “We’ve got big plans."

 

Leah widens her eyes at Simon, and he squeezes her arm. “Not like, sex plans. Midnight showing of 'Ant-man and the Wasp' plans."

 

“Oh,” she laughs, “Nerds.”

 

“Boyfriend is the nerd,” Simon points out, and Bram shrugs in acceptance, “I’m just keeping him company."

 

//

 

Bram’s shorts are riding up as he sits on the floor, his legs spread. He’s wearing sunglasses and no shirt, and looks, as far as Simon’s concerned, scorchingly hot. Simon ogles him shamelessly from where he’s sitting by the edge of the pool, playing cards with Nick and Abby.

 

“Dude, more playing, less ogling your boyfriend," Nick says, buying a card and scrunching up his nose at whatever he’s gotten.

 

Simon grabs some ice from inside his glass and throws it at Nick, who accidentally knocks Abby backward into the pool in his haste to get away from it. Leah cackles loudly from where she’s sitting next to Bram, both of them reading and sipping orange juice from mason jars. Simon gets up, smiling to himself when Abby drags Nick inside the pool with her, and walks over to Bram, plopping down next to him. Bram lifts his book from his lap so Simon can rest his head on it and lie down on the floor, and Leah makes an obnoxious cooing noise at the sight.

 

Simon doesn’t mind at all, he can already tell it’s going to be a great summer.

 

**Author's Note:**

> as you may have noticed, this short fic is set in movie-verse. it's not beta'd, so any and all mistakes are my own. english is not my first language, so please let me know in the comments if there are any glaring mistakes. i wrote this mostly just to have some fun with this pairing, i've been thinking about them non-stop since i saw the movie last sunday, so i figured "why not". 
> 
> the title is a line from youth by troye sivan. 
> 
> thank you so much for reading, have a lovely day! (▰˘◡˘▰)


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